


Mark Me

by Caveat_Lector



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal likes to get his way, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Possessive Will, Snuggling, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:18:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caveat_Lector/pseuds/Caveat_Lector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They didn't need to play out every idle fantasy that crossed Will's mind. If Hannibal would just <i>leave it alone</i>, Will would forget about it. Eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mark Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was a flimsy excuse to write Will being in a snit. Huge thanks to [victorine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine/pseuds/victorine) for the beta, she helped make this infinitely better despite this not being her kink at all :-)
> 
> For fic_promptly, 'mark me as yours'.

Will's nightly trip out with the dogs was cut short by the storm that had been brewing all day. He didn't mind the downpour, blissfully cool after the hot, muggy evening and neither did Evie. The pair of them splashed through puddles and danced around in circles, Will letting some of the day's tensions drain away. Pick just set off for the porch as soon as it started; he'd never liked getting wet.

He was waiting for them when they reached the steps, dripping on the mat. Will grabbed a rag and dried his paws one by one, Pick delicately lifting them in turn. He tried lifting the first up again, but he dropped it when Will gave him a look. His tail drooped sadly.

Evie didn't want to stand still, so Will let her in as she was. 

Hannibal was on the sofa, apparently engrossed in one of the many journals he received regularly. Somehow they always managed to catch up with him however many times they moved. He didn't say a word about Evie's muddy paws, so Will shook the rain out of his hair rather more forcefully than necessary.

Hannibal threw him a towel. It only smelled slightly of dog, which was a rare miracle in their house.

"We need a mat," Hannibal said, still intent on his journal to all outward appearances. "Now the floors are finished it would be a shame to ruin them."

Will felt a twinge of satisfaction that he'd managed to provoke Hannibal into breaking their five hours of tense silence first. There was something banal and domestic about the first words between them in hours being about the state of the floor, but it was better than Hannibal's only other topic of conversation at the moment. 

He gave his hair a quick ruffle and then took pity on Pick and gave him a rub down too. "Weekend," he said. "I'll drive into the town."

"As you like," Hannibal said, unruffled.

Will took a brief, unsatisfying piss in the bathroom, cleaned his teeth and went to bed. He pretended to be asleep when Hannibal came up a while later, but sleep was a long time coming.

 

In the morning he picked out his most threadbare jeans and an old flannel shirt. He laced up his boots with Pick and Evie fussing around his feet and retrieved his beanie from the nearest dog basket. Evie was becoming an accomplished thief; everything ended up there eventually.

His latest project was a restoration job on a pair of old boat engines. He enjoyed taking them apart, laying out all the pieces and cleaning them up, looking for wear and tear. Looking for spots that needed filing or oiling to make them work smoothly again.

After a couple of hours dismantling and cleaning he was calmer than he had been in days.

"Will."

Of course, he wasn't the only one who liked to poke around in the inner workings of things. He picked up an oily rag and began to clean a filter. 

"Hannibal."

"I hope you don't object to some company. The dogs wanted to come out and see you."

Will pressed his knee into Evie's affectionate head since both his hands were full. Pick was more interested in sniffing around the corners of his workshop. 

"I never mind the _dogs_ butting in," Will said. He was aware it made him sound sulky and childish, and he winced. 

It hadn't put Hannibal off, he was hovering close to the bench. And of course, typical Hannibal, he was wearing one of his most expensive suits. Or at least, having seen the bill, Will hoped it was one of the more expensive. It was still hideous. If Hannibal thought he was going to sweet talk Will into anything while wearing that suit, he was going to be gravely disappointed. 

"Mind you don't get covered in oil."

"I don't mind." Hannibal leaned against the bench and picked up a greasy piece of tubing. "What is this for?"

"You don't care about that," Will said, snatching it back off him. "And you hate getting messy."

"Not when it's with you." 

Will turned his attention back to the engine, because he'd had this conversation with Hannibal already and wasn't interested in having it again. They didn't need to play out every idle fantasy that crossed Will's mind. Even if this was harmless compared to some of their other activities.

Will had to find somewhere to draw a line, and this was the one he'd chosen. If Hannibal would just _leave it alone_ , Will would forget about it. Eventually.

"You don't object when I bite you or bruise you," Hannibal said after a moment. "It's how I like to mark you as mine. You wanting to put your scent on me isn't so different."

"It really is." Will rubbed harder with his oily rag and clenched his teeth. "But you know that wasn't my point."

"You never mark me," Hannibal said, and there was something in his voice Will hadn't heard before. Real, or more manipulation? It was hard to tell. Hannibal still didn't play fair when he thought it was in Will's best interests. "Have you never considered that I might like you to?"

Truthfully, Will hadn't. He'd been so determined not to let Hannibal win, to be able to resist just _once_ , that he'd never thought-- Hannibal had never _said_.

"If it helps," Hannibal said after a few minutes, gesturing the dogs out. "I can leave the suit on."

Will watched his back as he strolled up to the house and settled on the back porch with his damned journal once more in his lap.

God fucking damnit. He drained his bottle of water in several long gulps and tried to focus on the engine again.

It wasn't going to be easy.

 

The day was drawing to a close with dark clouds low in the sky when Will couldn't wait any longer. The pressure in his bladder made it hard to walk over to the house as quickly as he wanted to; not helpful when he wanted to think as little as possible about what he was maybe-- no, he was definitely going to do it.

Unless Hannibal had changed his mind.

He was still on the back porch with his journal, just sitting there in the chair like he had most of the afternoon. Sitting there in the suit he liked a great deal but knew Will loathed with a passion. Just sitting and waiting patiently for Will to come around to the inevitable. 

"Hello, Will." Hannibal looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun as Will climbed the steps. Or maybe just from Will; he had the strangest feeling he was glowing, pulsing and ready to burst out of his skin.

"Shut up," Will growled. "Just... shut up, and--"

He stepped closer, straddling Hannibal's knees. One hand fumbled with his belt, and Hannibal stilled, as if he hadn't been as sure of himself as he'd tried to convey. 

If so, that was tough, because this was happening now whether Hannibal liked it or not. Will pulled down his zipper and let the ancient jeans fall down, slipping over his hips until they were caught by Hannibal's legs.

Hannibal didn't move at all, not even to save his precious journal. He just watched Will take hold of his cock and point it towards Hannibal's chest.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Will heard the first heavy drops of rain on the porch roof as he let loose, as if the sky wanted to share in his release, wanted relief as much as he did. A wet patch took shape and expanded outwards over Hannibal's heart, turning the obnoxious shade of blue an almost acceptable navy.

"Mark me as yours, Will," Hannibal said, heat in his eyes. "Make me your territory."

"You are," Will gasped out, the words a punch to his gut. His hand trembled with the force of it, a stream of piss splashing off the pages of Hannibal's journal and onto his pants as his cock jumped. There was a dark satisfaction that he hadn't expected in the damp, ruined paper spread over Hannibal's lap.

There was even more when he realised what lay underneath. The rain hammered overhead and his heart matched it.

"Take it out," he said, dizzy with need, his throat dry. "Just, I want to see."

Hannibal pushed his ruined journal away and unzipped quickly. His cock sprang out hard and leaking, glistening from the wet fabric as it peeled away.

"You like it," Will breathed. "You--"

"I like seeing you act on your natural instincts," Hannibal said. "You never need to restrain them for me."

The front of Hannibal's suit was drenched now, the stream slowing down. Will let it flow over Hannibal's cock, watched it stiffen further and twitch under the warm piss. If any part of Hannibal belonged to him, it was that.

"Touch it," Will said, his voice hoarse. 

Hannibal obeyed, and Will let the last few drops trickle over his fingers. Hannibal's hand just moved faster. He came quietly, with Will's hand on his face and a low groan easily swallowed up by the storm.

"I'm sorry about your journal." Will lowered himself carefully into Hannibal's lap and lay his head against his shoulder. He was damp and cool, but even in a downpour the early evening still held some of the warmth of the day.

"I'm not," Hannibal said lightly. "It's merely a relic of the past. I already had thought of cancelling my subscription." 

Will was almost sure Hannibal was lying, just as Hannibal probably knew he had been. He opened his mouth to speak, say that he didn't need Hannibal to do that, didn't need him to change anything, but Hannibal wrapped a large hand around Will's cock and began to stroke gently.

"I think I will also take the opportunity to shop for a more relaxed wardrobe," Hannibal continued. "One more in keeping with our lifestyle here."

"Hannibal—"

"There's only you that matters now, Will. You and me."

Will couldn't find any words to argue with that. Instead he just relaxed into Hannibal's touch and watched the rain fall outside the dry safety of their porch.


End file.
